


I'll Write Your Name

by Cup_aTea



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Pre-Relationship, Season 1, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, lack of soul marks, past Peggy / Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cup_aTea/pseuds/Cup_aTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world of soul mates, Peggy had been born a blank with no soul mark. With the war over and Steve gone, some days it was a little too easy to get hung up on the fact.  At least until a customer at the L&L automat starts harrassing Angie.</p><p>Peggy Carter may not have a mark, but she sure as hell isn't going to let her friend be hasseled about hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Write Your Name

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ending the Lonliness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5045821) by [boaterV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boaterV/pseuds/boaterV). 



> I read the first line of boaterV's 'Ending the Lonliness' and this idea immediately popped into my head. Right now it's just a moment in time fic, but it's a little universe that's started to grow in my head so I wanted to share it. Peggy and Angie are not yet dating in this fic. (But their future selves do, oh believe me, they do.)
> 
> (Title from Taylor Swift's 'Blank Space')

Sitting in the L&L Automat, Peggy wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. Angie had been good enough to refill it a minute ago and the warmth felt good. She had a new letter from her mother, decrying her life choices, and it brought back thoughts of the war and thoughts of Steve—just like everything seemed to.

Peggy had been a blank with no soul mark all her life. Meeting Steve and finding out he was like her had been a relief. Peggy had a mother who had nagged her all her adult life about being a good girl and finding someone who didn’t mind her missing mark to settle down with. In her younger years, it had made her rebellious, leading her to climbing out of dormitory windows and getting into fistfights. It was probably part of what formed her decision to join the SSR. In later years, her mother would tell Peggy to forget about her lack of a mark and that she should ‘find some poor soul who’d lost their match in the war, and try to make a life out of it’. It had been the cause of many arguments between them. Finding Steve—the only other person she’d met without a mark—had made her heart lift in a way she hadn’t thought possible even before she started falling for him. They had been happy together, a match in their uniqueness. Now that he was gone, she was having to get used to the idea of being an oddity again.

Peggy let her eyes track the few other diners as she tried to take her mind off the letter. Angie was weaving her way through the tables effortlessly, and Peggy found herself admiring her patience as usual.

The diner had almost emptied when a newcomer made an entrance. He had a quick glance around, taking in Peggy sitting alone and the older couple sitting near the door, before focusing on Angie and her coffeepot.

“Hello, girlie. How about you get me a hot cup of coffee and the sweetest slice of pie you’ve got,” he said with a leer. 

Peggy watched Angie fight the urge to grimace and roll her eyes, even as her own hands tightened around her cup.

The man took a seat at one the tables, easily taking up the whole space on his own. Peggy frowned in frustration as she spotted the couple shrugging on their coats and leaving a few dollars on the table before slipping out the door. Meanwhile, the sallow skinned man was still smiling nastily at Angie and eyeing up her uniform.

“You’re very quiet, sweetheart. Why’s that? Pretty little girl like you still looking for her match? I didn’t happen to say your words just now, did I?” he said as Angie poured his coffee.

Angie finally snorted. “Not on your life, buster. Now, what kind of pie did you say you wanted?”

His hand wrapped around Angie’s wrist as she started to step away. “Not so fast, girlie. How do I know you aren’t wearing my words?”

Angie did roll her eyes. “Believe me, I’m not.”

“Prove it. Let’s see ‘em,” he growled.

Peggy had had enough. She stood and crossed the room as the man yanked Angie closer and Angie yelled, “Hey! Let go of me!”

Peggy twisted the man’s free arm up behind his back and smashed his face into the table.

“Do as she says,” she said coolly.

“You bitch,” the man spat, so Peggy raised his elbow higher until he yelped and let go of Angie’s arm.

“That’s better. Now. When I let go, you’re going to get up and walk out this door, and you won’t be bothering her again.”

“The hell I won’t!” he said.

“No, I don’t think so,” Peggy said. “Otherwise, you’d have to explain how you were over powered by two women. In an empty automat. Without any weapons used against you.”

The man grumbled against the table, but stopped struggling. 

“Good. Now, off you go,” said Peggy, releasing the man’s arm. He scrambled out of his seat and out the door. 

“Geez, English, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a guy gotten rid of so fast. Thanks for defending my honor,” Angie said with a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes. She was holding her arm close to her body.

“You’re welcome,” Peggy said. “Now come and sit so I can get a look at that wrist.”

Angie followed her back to her regular table, with only a moderate amount of fuss since the automat was empty. She stretched out her arm and Peggy pressed against her wrist and palm, paying close attention to Angie’s reaction.

“There doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage,” Peggy said, curling Angie’s long fingers against her palm. 

“Nah, I’m all right. Some guys just don’t know when to quit,” Angie said. Peggy wanted to smile at the way her lip curled in disgust.

“I can’t imagine dealing with a job like this, just dreading the day some pig like that says your words,” she said.

“Uh yeah, well it turns out I’ve got a trick for that,” Angie said, looking a little guilty. When Peggy raised an eyebrow, Angie leaned in and said, “I haven’t got a mark.”

“But I’ve seen it,” Peggy said dumbly. Angie’s mark was on her left heel, usually half hidden by her shoes and obscured by her nylons.

“You can keep a secret, can’t you English?” Angie said. She stretched her leg out into the aisle, twisting it so Peggy could see her heel. “This one? It’s not real. My brother and I saved everything we could, and when I was seventeen he snuck me out to get a tattoo. My parents still don’t know. My father would be livid if he found out, so we kept it secret.” She scrunched up her face. “It was very important to him that we were normal, so now I’ve got a mark no one’s ever gonna say.”

Peggy felt like her blood was thrumming with excitement.

“You’re a blank?” she blurted out. As Angie scowled and pulled back her hand, Peggy realized the grin on her face was probably wildly inappropriate. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I just meant, you’re a blank—so am I.” 

Angie pulled a face. “Don’t make fun, English. I’m telling the truth here.”

“I’m not. I don’t have a mark either. I’m a blank.”

“No way. Get outta here,” Angie said. “You’re—you’re not kidding are you. You’re really a blank. Like me.”

“Like you,” Peggy nodded. “I can hardly believe it. You’re the second person I’ve met without a mark.”

“You’ve met someone else?” Angie said. “I’ve only heard about it in old stories. It took ages to convince my brother. Who is it? Anyone I know?”

“Ah, no,” Peggy said. “He’s not around anymore.”

“Oh, it’s that fella.” When Peggy frowned in confusion, Angie elaborated, “The fella you’re always thinking about when you’re staring off into your coffee.”

Peggy smiled wryly. “I didn’t realize I was so easy to read.”

Angie reached out her hand and laced their fingers together. “We all lost a lot in the war. But ya know English, I think this is going to be a new chapter in our friendship.”

Peggy smiled back at her.

“I think you’re right.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes before Angie started making noises about closing up. As she got up from the table, she reminded Peggy: “If you’re still looking for a place, English, there’s plenty of room at the Griffith.

“After all, they only take nice girls who haven’t met their matches. So you’d fit right in.” Angie laughed as she started cleaning up the counter. 

Peggy smiled—Angie’s laugh could almost always make her smile. As she watched Angie wiping down the counter, the little black tattoo peeking above the lip of her shoe, Peggy thought maybe the notion of moving to the Griffith did have some merits after all.


End file.
